The Slytherin From Shiz
by Aaliyah-Charity
Summary: A fire burns down a magic school called Shiz. Thirty students survive, and three is admitted into Hogwarts. Coincides with 'Lily, from Shiz'.


The Slytherin From Shiz  
  
By: Aaliyah-Charity  
  
A/N: Hey! This story coincides with 'Lily, from Shiz.' Instead of it being about Audrey, the Hufflepuff who resembles Harry's mom Lily, it is about Eden Fae, who also came from the same school, Shiz, which magically burned down. You don't have to read the other story, but it would be nice if you did They are VERY different with the views on situations. Please enjoy this story and read and review!   
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns 'Harry Potter'  
  
Prologue  
  
It used to be that I hated my life because I wasn't the best in art, and it was understandable since at Shiz, if you weren't the best in your field, you didn't get too much attention. Shiz was a school for witches and wizards with a knack in the fine arts, but you also had to be academically intelligent too. You took your O.W.L.'s in your third year, and your N.E.W.T's in your fifth so it wouldn't affect your craft later in your career. I was an art major with an emphasis on painting, and a Transfiguration minor. On the side, I was heavily involved in Band, playing the trumpet. I hated not being the best, but all I could do was practice and practice until my lips were near cracking every day and my hands calloused with determination. My sister, Andrea, was perfect in her craft, which was theater. And though she was so popular, she was always so sweet and kind, which probably got her more popularity. I hated it, but I dealt with it since she was my sister and I appreciated her kindness. I used to be somewhat like that, only I was more of a loner than a social butterfly. I used to be kind, just like my sister, until an inextinguishable fire betrayed our people at Shiz and killed almost all five thousand of us, but thirty.  
  
And with my sister's death, so did my kindness. I became hard and bitter from the fire, wishing that I could've died along with them. There were many questions on why the stupid fire couldn't have been put out, but it was beyond magic. Everything was put in ruin, the corpses of my fellow peers in ashes. And all I could do was be bitter about it. I no longer had a loving sister, and it froze my kindness as well.  
  
I knew almost none of the survivors. I recognized some of them, but I didn't know them by name. After the fire, the heartless Ministry of Magic separated us into different magic schools. Three of us were to go halfway around the world to go into a prestigious magic school called Hogwarts. I was among the three, and I hated it. My parents didn't approve, but it didn't matter anymore. I hated them and the only comfort since the fire was that I would be able to see them less than I already got to.  
  
The Ministry wasn't so heartless though, but they did torture us by putting us through useless counseling until we were 'ready' to move into our new schools. Out of the three students of Shiz going into Hogwarts, one was able to go right away. Already I hated her and I was determined to show her that when I was deemed sane enough to go back to school. I didn't need counseling, but my angriness somehow led them to believe that I needed it. I didn't care, though. I figured if I stayed this way, they would give up on me and send me off, which they did, thankfully.  
  
A month after Hogwarts had started their term, I was finally on my way to be educated. Their academic program was okay, but their fine arts program was a joke. They only had chorus and band, and the chorus was bigger than the band, which was even more depressing. They did have Quidditch, and I hear that they're good. We had a very small Quidditch program at Shiz, but obviously it wasn't the best since we were a fine arts institution.  
  
Everyone at the stupid school is probably going to have pity on me, and that disgusts me. I don't need their pity. I'd much rather have their hate than their pity. It would drive me crazy if they did it, too. I can't imagine myself being all happy and nice, but I would attempt to slay the oncoming pity. If that other person from Shiz even tries to even communicate with me, I will make her very miserable. If she could've gone without counseling, why couldn't I? It annoyed me to no means. And the one that was still at counseling, she's probably just some depressed lowlife who can't take anything. Thinking of Shiz annoyed me. All of my small number of friends who died annoyed me. I didn't want to think of it-it was useless to cry about it.  
  
And if I block it out, I can surely not cry. I was determined not to show my weakness. It was the least I could do.  
  
My sister wouldn't have wanted me to be so bitter. She'd see her death as some kind of sacrifice for me, and she would have wanted me to be happy. She used to run her fingers through my blonde hair with my dark highlights and she would laugh about something silly her theater friends would do. Andrea would ask all the time about how my life was going, and she was always patient with my complaints. Somehow she made life bearable as I lived through the days of Shiz. It made me very content at the school, to fulfill my art and to express myself through my work. Playing the trumpet helped relieve the stress it caused, and vice versa.  
  
Without Andrea, my hope for anything had been diminished, and my life was just an empty void. Going to this school would surely be a mistake, but where else could I go at my age? Without this education, all my hazel eyes would see were the hardships of life that children shouldn't see, and so I went on peacefully. My attitude, however, remained the same as I went through the doors of the magnificent castle that would sooner or later become my home and my sanctuary.  
  
A/N: Well, here's the first bit of it! It's a little short, but it'll progressively get longer Review please, to feed my motivation! 


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